The Coma of Adam Pendleton
by muggletribute
Summary: What happens when Arthur wakes up and finds himself surrounded by 'doctors' telling him that his real name is Adam Pendleton, and he's been in a coma for two years? Was it all just a coma-dream? Also Morgana and Gwen.
1. Chapter 1

**Alright guys, I really need your help. Last night, after thinking about the latest episode of Merlin, I thought of a new fanfic idea. I wrote down the idea and was going to leave it on the ****back burner-I have enough to do with homework and my current fanfic-but then I had an idea. This could possibly work as a piece for my writing studio, if I make it a little less obvious that it's based on a TV show. Then I could publish it on here too. But. I would really appreciate some opinions first. If you think I should continue with it, please review! If I don't get any I probably won't update it honestly. Please let me know if you think it's interesting! P.S. chapter updates won't be this short usually, and if you think it's a good idea it will be a quickly updated story, as I'll be writing it on a school deadline :)**

oOoOo

Sire, you look perfect. Stop fretting." Looking behind him, Arthur saw Merlin grinning at Arthur's nervous pacing.

"Not like a dollop head, or a big-headed prat?" Arthur and Merlin laughed; they both knew Merlin was the only one who could ever get away with calling him names.

"Not even a dollop head, Arthur. Guinevere is a lucky lady." Merlin scratched his head. "Although, there is one thing missing. " His eyes flashed gold and with a flourish he produced a set of rings—one more masculine with a dragon etched into the gold and the other a smaller gold band and a small diamond instead of the dragon. "Consider these my wedding present. Look on the inside," Merlin urged him as he handed the rings to Arthur, and when he looked he saw an insignia of his and Guenivere's initials inscribed.

"The insignia will leave a print on your finger—no cheating for you two," Merlin teased.

"Merlin…they're perfect. Thank you." Merlin's displays of magic still caught him off guard, but odder still was their growing friendship, which Arthur relied on almost as much as his relationship with Guinevere.

Sir Gwaine stepped in the room, breaking the moment. "Sire—it's time."

The wait for her to appear seemed an eternity to Arthur. When she finally did begin her approach, her brother's arm through hers, Arthur forgot for a moment that he was King, and she was to be Queen. He was just a man, marrying the woman he loved.

Her eyes found his and she smiled happily, Arthur returning the smile eagerly.

"It's Mr. Pendleton, sir, I—I think he's waking up!" Arthur tore his eyes from his fiancée to look for the source of the commotion, ready to imprison the man who dared interrupt the happiest day of his life.

But no one else seemed to have heard; Merlin was still grinning like a buffoon by his side, the crowd is still turned towards Guinevere. Arthur thought he must have imagined the noise, especially since it made no sense—who's Mr. Pendleton?—and turned his eyes back to his bride.

But when he did Arthur realized she was shimmering, along with the entire throne room, and Arthur felt his knees buckle before everything went black.

A sharp gasp was the next thing he knew. The intake of air felt heavenly, Arthur couldn't get enough of it. He opened his eyes, ready to laugh away the collapse, blame it on the nerves.

Instead he saw that he was lying on a strange bed, with blindingly white walls and some…tubes? hooked up to his arm.

"What the bloody—" Attempting to pull out the tubes and sit up, Arthur panicked as several men and women dressed in the same blinding white held him back. Another white-clad man walked up and grimaced at him.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Pendleton, you need to keep those in. How do you feel?"

Arthur looked at him furiously. Who was Mr. Pendleton? What was he doing here? Where was Guinevere?

"What did you do to Guinevere? I command you to release me!" They look at him in surprise.

"Who?" The doctor looks surprised and confused, but Arthur doesn't take his scam for a minute.

"Where. Is. My. Queen." He enunciated with a terrible fury that seemed to settle onto the man's very bones; he took a very careful step back.

"Sir," the man looked at the others worriedly. "Sir, my name is Dr. Vance Kerrington, and you have been my patient here for two years…Your name is Adam Pendleton and you were in a coma."

Arthur looked at him in shock. What kind of magic could this be? Who did this to him?

Arthur hardened his gaze more, if that was even possible, and his muscles rippled as two more of these 'doctors' rushed in to help hold him down.

"Is this Morgana's doing? If she is your Master, tell her to stop being a stranger and come see her beloved brother." Arthur's voice is dark, and Dr. Kerrington looks at him for a long two minutes before stepping away and murmuring something in another man's ear. Arthur looks satisfied, believing he will finally confront Morgana and find Guinevere. Instead, the man walks forward towards him.

"I'm sorry, sir." Arthur doesn't have time to wonder what he means before a needle is forced into his neck and he instantly slumps, his eyes fluttering closed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey all, thanks to everyone who reviewed! To LHC1, I think it made sense and all I can say is you will just have to wait and see! Emerald1998, slashygeek, larasmith (you gave me a lot to think about for sure!), arthurgwent2010 and guest, thank you all for your comments, it really was awesome to see those all! From now on I won't publicly respond to each comment, but I thought I would this time because it meant so much to me! Enjoy, and I will try to post every Sunday!**

**-muggletribute-**

After the third time of the needle in his neck, Arthur was more careful about waking up and how he reacted. His eyes opened and he moved slowly, carefully turning his head toward the doorway where they always seemed to hurtle through as he woke up.

Arthur listened carefully before expelling the air he had been holding in. He couldn't hear any footsteps toward him; in fact, it was probably the quietest it had been while he had been awake. _Where the hell am I? What sorcery has Morgana done to make this happen?_

Arthur had never seen a place like this. All the white was unnerving, and he didn't know what or who these 'doctors' were. Were they Morgana's new idea of torture? The doctors didn't seem intent on hurting him, yet, other than the damn needle they stuck in him every time he tried to leave. Obviously it wasn't just some bloody sewing needle.

That was about all Arthur had learned about this place so far. He decided to use the quiet to figure out what he could—from his last three attempts, Arthur knew there wasn't much point in trying to escape, especially without knowing anything about his surroundings.

A window above him on the left wall had a clear barrier in it, only visible by the frame that surrounded it and the occasional smudge on the surface. Outside there wasn't much he could see, a bit of blue sky, something that looked almost like a castle turret but more rectangular, and the sun seemed to be rising.

_So, it's early morning_, Arthur deduced._ How long have I been here? Do they have anyone else?_ He hoped Guenivere had been kept safe; Merlin may be useless as a manservant, but as a warlock he could at least keep Gwen, and hopefully all the others, safe. It was only too bad he wasn't here to save Arthur, as he had so many times before. When magic was involved, it was good to have him around.

Arthur looked towards the door. It was open, and through it he could see a long hallways. There was bright torchlight, but he couldn't see any torches on the walls. The walls were that same bright white, and there were doors like his opening down the hall.

Next he looked at the room he was in. There was a lot of devices that he had never seen before – something that looked like a coat hanger but had containers of liquid hanging on it instead, with tubes coming out of them and attaching to his wrist.

There was some object hanging on the wall that had, writing on it, and two little pointers that didn't seem to move, as well as one tiny pointer that moved. Arthur counted. It moved every second, and he was surprised as one minute later one of the longer hands clicked forward.

_So it keeps track of time_, Arthur thought. Well that was convenient, but Arthur only had to look at the sky to know the time. There was a small, tall table with something silver in it, a basin or tub of some kind. And above it, what looked like cupboards. Arthur wondered if there would be anything helpful in there, but as he thought that footsteps towards him made Arthur look back at the door.

The man, Dr. Kerrington, he had said his name was, was standing there.

"Well, good morning Ad-um…sir! How are you feeling?" Arthur stared at his hands suspiciously.

"No needle?" Dr. Kerrington shook his head.

"No need for that, I think." He drew a stool out from under the table. "I'd just like to talk. Assess what it is you know about what you are doing here, how much you know."

Arthur relaxed a little, but he was very confused. It didn't make sense, this wasn't Morgana's style. Maybe she had drugged him and left him somewhere where he couldn't stop her? That seemed most reasonable for now, so he decided to not hold it against the doctor.

"Well…sure. What do you want to know." Arthur sat up, folding his arms against his chest protectively.

The doctor beamed in a way that reminded Arthur of Merlin. It made him homesick. "Well, sir, I'd like to ask some questions first. For example, I would like you to read this card." He held out a card with scribbles on it, but looking at it just gave Arthur a headache.

"No, I can't. It isn't a language I know. Well," Arthur looked closer. "Actually, it looks a bit like my language. I can read some of it, though the words are spelled different." He read a couple of the words, and as he did he noticed he could read more than he had thought at first. "Wait a second, if your written language is different, why can I understand you? I mean, you sound a bit different, and uneducated, but I can understand you."

"What is your language, Arthur? I believe I have an idea…we must just have…" the doctor thought for a second before finishing, "a related language." It seemed the best way to tell his patient that he was speaking in an accent that a psychiatrist had traced to both Old English and Middle English.

"I'm speaking English of course," Arthur replied to the question with pride. The man should have known that, everyone knew King Arthur and his Knights spoke English. "Don't you know who I am?" Arthur spoke the question with a little bit of worry in his voice, and the doctor softened.

"I do, sir. You, well, you believe you are King Arthur, one of the legendary rulers of England."

Legendary, well…legendary was new. But Arthur could deal with that. It was the "believe" in the response that had him more upset. Before he could respond though, the doctor kept up his questions.

He asked Arthur basic questions that seemed to test his hearing, sight, and knowledge (or lack of, as he seemed to know nothing the man asked) on certain subjects. Kerrington seemed to grow more and more disturbed throughout the progression.

"Well, Arthur. You did very well." Arthur disagreed, and knew the doctor did too. "I'm going to leave this book with you, I want you to study it." He dropped a book on the table and left. Arthur picked it up. From the pictures, it looked like a…a children's book. But, Arthur could not see the harm. Wherever he was, he needed to understand this language. Slowly he began to piece his way through the book, trying to understand their odd systems of language, and before he knew it, he had already memorized their alphabet and had moved onto small words.

Dr. Kerrington watched from the room next to his in frustration. "He seems to grasp the language quick enough, so he's not incapable of relearning all his lost skills. Will that transfer to memory? I don't know." The other man in the room stayed quiet, letting Kerrington talk. He was dressed in a dark suit, contrasting spectacularly with the rest of the hospital.

His dark hair and pale skin had always unnerved the doctor a bit, but he was always friendly when he visited so Dr. Kerrington rarely even noticed his appearance anymore. He had been the patient's therapist before the…event had occurred, and had been called the moment Adam had woken up.

"What do you think, Dr. Emerson? Will he recover?" Dr. Kerrington waited for the response.

The therapist was still watching Adam. Finally he cleared his throat. "I think the question needs to be, does he want to recover?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Alright everyone, I got such great responses so I'm giving you a chapter early (also, I will be gone this weekend so yeah..)! Unfortunately, PendragonFana, I can only update once a week, I'm graduating this December so I suppose I should put some effort into graduating :) However, I'm so glad that you like it so far! I really cannot believe the amount of support (follows, favorites and reviews) that I've gotten so far, thank you all so, so much!**

**Happy reading, and please let me know what you think!**

**-muggletribute.**

"He's already finished the four books we've given him, two full-length novels, he's at a high school reading level already. I mean, this is more than fast for a coma patient. And speaking of, we still can't pin down what he has. It's gotta be something new. I mean, he seems to have everything, Dr. Scott. There's some FAS, although the in the strangest way possible, possibly delusions or retrograde amnesia. There is the possibility of him having a dream that was unusually long due to the length of the coma, and finding it hard to believe it's not true."

Dr. Kerrington paused for a moment, listening to the person on the other end of the phone. Arthur craned his neck to get a look at the phone-thing. He'd read about them, but still not gotten to see one.

Arthur wondered what FAS was, or retrograde amnesia.

"Mmhhmm, okay Dr. Scott, that sounds good to me. I'll keep you updated."

Arthur quickly laid back down, getting comfortable. He knew what happened next. Dr. Kerrington walked into the room, grinning and asking him how he was. It was the same routine every day. Except today, today, Arthur got to go outside. They had made him sit in this damn bed for a week, and finally they were letting him walk.

Without any little talk Arthur took the blankets off and went to swing his legs off the bed. He was surprised when it wasn't as easy as he had expected.

"Woah, there, you've been in the same bed for over two years. This is going to take some time."

Arthur glared but kept his mouth shut. It was excruciating, but he did it. He took a shaky step, and then another. Soon, he was taking easy strides. Dr. Kerrington looked at him in astonishment.

A patient had never taken to it this quickly, especially after so long a coma as he had been in. However, he just put it down to muscle memory, Adam had been an active man in the past, that must be why.

"Alright, Arthur, are you ready?" He had taken to calling him by his preferred name, to keep the aggressive behavior to a minimum. The look Adam gave him was answer enough, so Dr. Kerrington motioned for him to follow out the door.

Walking through the hallway was a Godsend to Arthur, but going out the glass doors (he had learned the name of the clear substance in one of the later books given to him) and into the open was like—well, it was like nothing he had ever experienced. The ground was, well, like the walls of his castle but smoother. And the buildings. He had seen pictures in the books Doc gave him, but these, these were so tall and square, and, full of glass. They looked so fragile. And seemingly random.

Arthur walked a few steps, looking up at the sky.

"Careful, the road is right by your feet!" Dr. Kerrington was practically at his elbows, and Arthur looked back towards him before looking where he was going. He practically jumped into Dr. Kerrington's arms as a car (another word learned in the books) shot right past him. The thing hadn't seemed quite as dangerous in the books, somehow.

"Holy mother of God," he muttered. He had been trying to prepare himself for what he was told was out there, but he realized, no book could ever prepare someone for this. Other people got to go through it slowly, but no, of course Arthur had to have it all at once, smacking him down. Arthur had thought he could deal with everything now, but this…this was just too much.

He barely noticed as Dr. Kerrington took his arm and led him back inside, until Arthur was back in his room, landing back on his bed with a thud.

"You'll get used to it." Dr. Kerrington bit back the next words he wanted to say so badly, you'll remember, because he knew that would make it so much worse. "Arthur," the man looked at him with wide eyes. "Your therapist is going to come in today. He worked with you um, before the, coma."

"What's his name," Arthur said quietly. Dr. Kerrington was surprised he didn't have any fight in him about his belief, but it had been a hard day. He doubted Arthur had any fight left in him.

"Dr. Emerson. He'll be here in about an hour." Arthur nodded and laid down, mumbling that he needed a nap. Dr. Kerrington left, closing the door and scratching his head over the days events.

A rapid succession of knocks woke Arthur from his nap and he looked at the window outside. Dr. Kerrington had taught him how to use the clock on the wall, but Arthur preferred his method. It looked to be about when the doctor had said his therapist would get here so he quickly got up and opened the door.

Standing in front of him was—

"Hello, I'm Dr. Emerson. I hear you prefer Arthur?" The man in front of him was smiling quizzically, waiting for an answer.

"Erm, yes." Arthur stared. The man was, well, he looked like what Merlin would look like in about, say, forty years. The man was older, but still retained the shocking black hair and bright piercing blue eyes. With a start he realized they were still standing awkwardly in the doorway and he jumped back and, remembering his manners, offered the stool Dr. Kerrington always used to him. Then he sat back on his bed, still staring.

"Well Arthur, how are you doing? I heard you made your first visit outside?"

"Um, well," It was disconcerting, staring at a man who looked so like Merlin but apparently wasn't him. "Well, yeah. It was, interesting."

"How so?"

"Well, Dr. Emerson, I just-" Arthur started but Mer-Dr. Emerson interrupted.

"Oh, please call me Mark. I know we haven't met before, but I have met Adam, and I must say, it's weird for what looks like him to call me a doctor." Arthur stared at him. He was definitely the strangest person he had met, stranger than Merlin possibly. And that was saying something.

"Um…okay…Mark." Arthur thought for a second about how odd it was that his therapist had the same initial, hell, practically the same name, as his court sorcerer. Although the man didn't look like a Mark. He just, he looked like a Merlin—his Merlin. "Well…there's really no other way to say it than this. I know everyone thinks I was in some coma, but I promise you," here Arthur took a leap of faith; his therapist had seemed more understanding so maybe he actually _believed_ Arthur's tale. "I promise you, Mark, that this is all Morgana's doing. I have memories of the littlest things, things that this, Adam, wouldn't know. I remember how Guinevere—" Arthur stopped, his eyes squinting a bit and a frown on his face.

Mark just looked at him quietly. He didn't seem to have a comment, which infuriated Arthur, but also kind of felt nice. For the last week doctors had just been trying to reason out why this had happened. Mark just looked thoughtful and possibly a bit concerned.

However, he didn't look like he was going to conspire with Arthur to find him a way back.

"Okay, well, whatever. No one believes me, but that's fine. I can figure it out myself." Arthur felt grumpy and hoped this would be short.

"Hmm…well, Arthur, I can say with certainty that you won't have to figure this out yourself. But _what_ you need to figure out, that is probably the question you will need to address first."

Mark adjusted his note pad carefully. "I have some ideas for future meetings, but I think what we really need to focus on is getting you out of here. You need to catch up with current technology and modern life before we can discuss other issues. So, I have some reading for you. If you finish them by this next Friday—eight days from now—I believe we can discuss moving you into your old apartment.

"Also, Dr. Kerrington has worked to set up a television for you, and he will have channels you can watch. Trashy TV is not something a certified therapist likes to dish out, but in your case I think it will help you catch up." Mark put a three books on the table next to Arthur and started to walk out the door.

"The Tales of King Arthur?" He read aloud in surprise. Mark looked at him with some humor.

"You'd be surprised to learn that there are scholars who devote all their time to studying Arthurian legend."

"What, I'm just a legend?" Arthur scoffed, but Mark just smiled and left without another word.


	4. Chapter 4

**some lines from Merlin here, and also some spoilers so...yeah if you don't like spoilers this isn't the **

**chapter for you. Last, thanks yet again to everyone who responded! Enjoy!**

**-muggletribute-**

_There is a Legend_

_They say that King Arthur lies sleeping in a cave in Wales, and will someday rise up wearing a golden crown to save his beloved isle from oppression._

Arthur kept going back to the beginning of the book and reading those lines over and over. Most of the stories about him had absolutely no relevance to his life. No wonder he was a legend—because nobody seemed to know what he actually looked like, or even how he lived! Mark had brought several other books about him over, and they were more and more unlikely as he read them.

The children's book was his favorite even though it was not true, though. And this quote. He had found it in the beginning of a book called, ironically, The death of Arthur. Mark had brought in what was apparently an original version, once he had realized that Arthur could read the "middle French", or whatever he had called it. Sure, it was a strange language, but not so different from the languages of kingdoms around him, and Arthur had always enjoyed learning the languages of others.

He wondered over and over if this legend had something to do with his situation. But he could never figure out how it could be.

One of them told the tale of the disappearance of King Arthur, when Guinevere, Merlin and the Knights of Camelot searched for their King. Arthur thought it odd that this was one of the few things that seemed to line up with his life so far.

He missed Guinevere. A lot. Lately he had been thinking about all the good things Guinevere had done for him, things she had said to him, just to keep her from leaving him. He was so afraid he was stuck here in this world, as Adam. That he might never see her again scared the hell out of Arthur. And in some way, keeping her fresh in his memory seemed to at least make Arthur feel like he was fighting against the inevitable, that because he didn't forget, someday he would find his way back.

Arthur went back to looking at the ancient book. It didn't say much about his teenage years, with Uther as king. Those years had always been stressful. Uther was never happy with Arthur; all Arthur wanted to do was bring peace and happiness to his kingdom and Uther had just seemed to become more and more power-hungry and unhappy with Arthur.

Then there was the time that troll had bewitched Uther. Arthur laughed, and quickly stopped. It was funny now, but it had been terrifying then. Uther had replaced Arthur as heir.

Arthur had always tried so hard to make Uther proud, to do what was right for the kingdom. But then, what seemed to be right for the kingdom wasn't what Uther wanted, or what made him proud. Arthur could remember how conflicted he had felt. Had he just been wrong? Was he doing the wrong thing for the kingdom? Was he too soft? In his room he had thrown things around, then sat down, his head in his hands.

That was how he was when Guinevere knocked on his door.

"Come in. Guinevere!" He looked up and was surprised to see her.

"I saw what you did earlier. The people owe you a debt of gratitude."

Arthur felt confused while they talked. Gwen was so proud of him, almost beaming, but he had done nothing. The tax he had tried to stop was still to be carried out. The people would starve. Before Gwen left, she said something that stuck in his head for a long time after.

"You have a kind heart, Arthur. Don't ever change, not for anyone."

That snapped Arthur out of his daydream. It was one of his favorite memories, one that he cherished, even more now that he couldn't see her. Gwen had been the first one to make him believe he was good enough the way he was. He had never told anyone about that moment, and that's why he hadn't told Mark—although it had almost slipped out.

Arthur found it oddly easy to talk to Mark though. Maybe because he reminded him so much of Merlin. Maybe because it was his job to be easy to talk to. Whatever the reason, Arthur couldn't help but trust him.

Thinking of Mark reminded Arthur that it was probably almost time for him to come by today. He looked up at the clock, and pushed himself out of bed to get ready. Mark had brought him clothing and some personal items like a toothbrush and comb.

Getting ready, Arthur realized how fast he was adapting to this culture and age. He looked at the toothbrush in his mouth, a bright green handle with white bristles, and the comb on the counter. When Mark had brought them, Arthur hadn't even known what they were, but once he explained Arthur realized they were just different-looking versions of things he had at home. It had been a bit odd at first, but now he didn't even think about it. He always saw Dr. Kerrington looking at him with these odd expressions when he did something that was considered normal for their time. Like he expected Arthur to disappear and Adam to be back all of a sudden.

_Well_, Arthur thought with a huff_, that's not happening anytime soon_. No matter how adapted he was to the new things, it would never convince him that he was Adam. Because he wasn't Adam and never had been.

Once he was done he sat back down on the bed and looked the old book again. He hoped that Mark would bring another book for him, he was getting really bored in the hospital. Really the only reason he was here was because they didn't know what to do with someone who thought they were, who was, Arthur always tried to remind them, what these old books called the Once and Future King.

Sometimes he looked at the legend and wondered if something had gone wrong, if he had been called here before he was supposed to. Arthur was very confused about it all. He had seen pictures of this Adam, and it looked exactly like him, but, in a way, completely not. The Adam who seemed to be missing lacked a light of happiness in his eyes, he obviously had no one like Guinevere. And he didn't seem to carry the burden of a kingdom on his shoulders, but Arthur thought something else might be weighing him down. He hadn't seen a happy picture of Adam yet.

One time Arthur had asked why Adam had been put in a coma. Mark had looked at him sadly, and for once, chose not to answer. Instead, he just asked Arthur to keep working on the grammar homework he had been given.

A knock on the door made Arthur look up. Instead of Mark, it was a nurse who came in sometimes to help him.

"Um, Mr.—Arthur?" Mark must have convinced the staff to start calling him Arthur. "Dr. Emerson is waiting for you outside."

"Thank you, Hannah."

Outside wasn't nearly as scary anymore. Mark was sitting on the bench outside the hospital doors, and turned to smile at him.

"Morning, Arthur. How are you today?"

"Oh you know," Arthur replied with a smirk. "still Arthur Pendragon, still bored of the damn hospital." He had started giving this response a week ago, and at first Mark had tried to discuss it, but a couple days in he had given up and now just smiled quietly.

"I have a surprise for you today. Possibly two, if you like the second idea." Arthur glanced at Mark's hands to see if there was a book, but Mark's hands were empty.

"What is it," he asked unenthusiastically.

"Oh come on, sound a bit more excited! Your first surprise, is that we are going on a field trip today! I think you'll enjoy it, and probably the second surprise even more."Mark thought he saw a bit of interest in Arthur's eyes, but Arthur was always very good at hiding his true feelings. This was going to be a bit of a problem, Mark realized. He needed him to be open and comfortable.

"Don't you want to know what the second surprise is?" He asked when Arthur didn't respond.

"Not really."

"Well I'm going to tell you anyways. If you would like, I think it is about time we move you out of the hospital, and I happen to have an apartment on my land that you could live in while you get back on your feet!"

Arthur looked at him in shock. "I can-I can leave?"

"Today, if you'd like," Mark grinned, and for the first time in what felt like forever Arthur smiled back. It was really hard to put this strong and confident Arthur together with the previous Adam, someone so quiet and shy that Mark had felt like he needed protection.

"Sure, it's like…it will be my own place? I would really…well, thank you so much, Mark. This means a lot to me."

"No problem. We'll go look at it after our trip." Mark led Arthur over to the garage next to the hospital, towards his car. This would be his first time in a car since the accident, so Mark knew he needed to be careful.

His car was a green '78 Monte Carlo. Mark had saved up for it when he had first finished Uni, and he told Arthur so, trying to keep some small talk going so he wouldn't get nervous. Mark showed him how to use the seatbelt and then got his own on.

"Ready?" Arthur nodded grimly at him. The car started, making Arthur cringe a little, but he tried to look nonchalant. When the car rocked into motion, Arthur instantly decided he preferred horseback.

"Where are we going?" Trying to keep his mind off of the odd sensation, Arthur started asking questions.

"We are going somewhere where Adam spent a lot of his time. I want you to learn some about Adam. Even if you aren't him, he is part of your past, because it was he that slipped into the coma, even if you were the one to wake from it.

"Now, I want you to listen carefully. Adam had problems in his life. That's why he came to me for help. We have kept his family from the hospital; we let them know that you were awake, but that it would make matters worse to see you. We elected to keep the fact that you have no idea who they were quiet for now, but now it's getting complicated, since it seems you, Arthur, are here to stay for a while.

"So, some things need to be worked out. We need to decide what's going to work for you, and I have some ideas, but it will be up to you to make the final call." He looked over at Arthur, who had been very quiet, and quickly understood why. Without hesitation he pulled over to the side of the road and, leaning over, quickly opened the door for him. It was just in time, as Arthur's breakfast hit the pavement seconds later.

"I'm so sorry, Mark. I…this isn't something that normally—"

"It's your first time in a car moving at fifty miles an hour, Arthur," Mark said kindly. "You have nothing to apologize or feel embarrassed about. It'll take some getting used to."

The rest of the car ride Mark let Arthur talk about his past, knowing it would keep his mind occupied and the contents of his stomach mostly calm.

"We're here," Mark said. Arthur looked out the window and saw a beautiful building. Of all the buildings he had seen so far, this one was the most like his own castle. The bricks were a dusty rose color, no color he had ever seen on a building. The windows looked old for this place, with beautiful pictures in the window glass and the doors were made of oak that looked exactly like his castle. There were even some turrets.

As they drove towards the front he saw a sign with the words "Medieval Museum of Britain".

"Adam spent a lot of time here because he was a medieval historian. He researched and wrote essays on Chaucer, Beowulf and, of course, Arthurian legend."

Arthur stared at Mark. What were the chances that this would happen? Now that he knew what Adam studied, he wasn't surprised at all that they didn't believe him. Not that it would stop him from trying.

Your—um, Adam's father is the caretaker for this museum, but he kindly stepped out for the morning so that we could have some time for you to look around.

"You mean for me to remember that I'm Adam." Mark hurried to answer before Arthur crawled back into his sarcastic wall of armor.

"No, I mean so that you can see a little bit of your history, as in you, Arthur. And maybe also so you can get to know Adam. We do need to find out what happened to him, you know."

Arthur looked at Mark oddly. He never could tell if Mark was being serious or just played along so that Arthur would "get better."

"Fine. Let's go check it out." Mark turned quickly into a parking spot and Arthur grabbed for the handle to get out, before realizing the seatbelt was still strapping him in. He wrestled with it for a bit and finally got it off, then jumped out of the car.

As they walked towards the doors, Mark started to tell him all about the museum's history, which Arthur listened to at first, but quickly tuned out. There was a man walking toward them inside the building, which was odd since the parking lot was empty and Mark had said the caretaker was gone. Mark noticed him looking.

"Oh, well, that's the security officer…he's supposed to be gone too, but I suppose you can meet him." Mark looked apprehensive. When the man came into view, Arthur couldn't believe his eyes.

**that was mean, I'm sorry. I don't normally do too many cliffhangers, but this one just needed to be done! Anyways, question for you all! Would you like a chapter from the perspective of back in Camelot? I've had some responses wondering what they're doing without their king, and although I was just planning on keeping the suspense until (nearly) the end, I could do a short chapter...let me know. Because if you don't, I won't write it!**

**Thank you for reading! Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello again! This chapter is a bit short, sorry! I spent the weekend with some family so I didn't have much time, and last week was insane—the next couple weeks will probably be worse! However, I'm hoping to have a short chapter up around Wednesday so maybe that will make up for it. Anyways, here is the next chapter. I know I said I thought I'd put some Gwen in here, but it worked out better for her to be next chapter! So you get some Arthur here, and, also, some answers at last! Yay! That answer's Pea (Guest)'s question, and thank you everyone!Hope everyone liked ****_Merlin_**** this week, I haven't gotten to watch it yet:/ Hopefully soon!**

**-muggletribute—**

Arthur thought he probably looked like one of those cartoons he'd seen on the telly, with their mouth gaping open towards the floor. Walking towards him was Gwaine! He looked at Mark, ready for some nonsense explanation.

"Well, his name is Gavin," Mark began, and Arthur waited for the explanation or question about his obvious recognition. Mark surprised him, though.

"Let's go inside. I suppose it's time we talk, Arthur." He was used to Mark using his name, but this time it sent a chill down his spine, like, this time he used it with actual affection and familiarity...or at least it felt like it.

They kept walking towards the security guard, and Mark only nodded to him and kept going. The security guard that looked so much like Gwaine gave Arthur a boyish grin and turned to follow them back where he had came from. Mark led them all towards a door, and when he opened it Arthur was reminded strongly of the round table, except, of course, for the fact that the table was square with only four chairs. But it was situated similarly and in a room with a vaulted ceiling similar to his castle.

When they had seated themselves, Arthur looked to Mark to begin.

"Okay. Well, Arthur, it's time you know the truth.

"You, well, you are Adam Pendleton." Arthur looked frustrated so Mark hurried on.

"But you are Arthur too. And this isn't some psychology thing, before you ask. I'm going to be perfectly honest with you. I am Mark Emerson, your therapist, and I was before the coma. But that name is only recent. Over 1,000 years ago, my name was Merlin, or Emrys."

Arthur looked at him, and wondered if maybe his therapist had gone a bit loony himself.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Crazy. You know that legend you read over and over? About you? Well, this is when you were going to be needed. But something went wrong. You were brought to life as Adam, but you didn't remember who you really were. You had issues though, depression and anxiety, and I became a therapist in order to help you, because I thought maybe it had something to do with the repressed memories.

"From what I've heard, though…things are even more complicated. From what I can tell, it seems as though when Adam…you…went into a coma, something happened that changed the past and the future. Somehow, your soul and mind were pulled from the day of your marriage and brought here. As if…well, as if because the present/future you wasn't able to complete your destiny, the past you had to be brought in order to fix it. But, I don't really understand it of course.

"And, I've been gathering all those who seem to be reincarnations of those closest to you at Camelot. Gwaine here is the only one who knows about his past self…don't quite know why really," Mark…or do I call him Merlin, Arthur thought awkwardly, mused out loud.

"I've known from the beginning," Gwaine said. "Don't know why, but it's been a bloody mess of a life, what with the memories of a crazy knight in my head and a dull upbringing in modern day Sussex. But, I'm here for ya mate. Used ta look after you in the museum, though you didn't know who I was then. It's nice to have my King recognize me." Gwaine couldn't seem to stop grinning.

Neither could Mark/Merlin, it seemed.

"What do I call you, then…Can I call you Merlin?" Arthur looked timidly at his old servant and therapist. Really, Merlin had always been his friend, even when he had pretended he was just a lowly servant.

"You can call me whatever you want, Arthur. I'm just glad to stop this stupid charade. I had hoped to find a less callous way of explaining to you. You see…I don't know how to return you to Camelot."

There was silence. Arthur stared at his hands.

"What's happening back in Camelot, then? Shouldn't you know?" Merlin looked at Arthur.

"I do. But, it could all change. Every moment from here on out could change the past, and thus the present. I cannot tell you what I know, for fear of destroying your chance at returning."

"What happened to Adam?" Arthur asked suddenly. He was almost happy at the look of surprise and worry on Merlin's face. He had been left in the dark for weeks, weeks!, when Merlin could have just told him. Why didn't he tell him? All this, kept a secret. It made him so angry, and he wanted Merlin to feel that pain, too. A part of him felt bad, though, when he saw how white Merlin's face was. It obviously was something bad.

Finally Merlin cleared his throat. "He tried to kill himself." Merlin didn't think Arthur needed the details. Luckily, Merlin had found him, but the scene haunted him. He found himself telling Arthur, the words pouring out.

"You...the weight of emptiness that you seemed to have, because you hadn't found yourself, was haunting you. You didn't feel like the right person anymore, and it made you withdrawn and confused. Anger was building up, but it was anger at yourself, frustration about that thing you couldn't seem to find. I tried what I could for you, tried to help you find yourself, but it only made matters worse.

"I found you, after, and could barely get you down in time. I screamed at the phone and somehow the ambulance was there in minutes. They got you to the hospital but weren't able to keep you from going under. Your father arrived just as the doctor determined you were comatose, only kept alive by the machines attached to you."

Arthur just stared. He couldn't believe he, or some version of himself, would ever do that.

"So, if I'm here now, like, the past me, what happened to this future version of me?"

"I don't know. Maybe he's in there. Maybe he's gone forever." It was odd. This double-life he had supposedly led. He didn't know how Merlin and Gwaine did it, living with two lives in their head.

"I need a moment. Can I go out there?" Arthur pointed out the door. Merlin and Gwaine nodded and Arthur stood up, glancing at the future Gwaine before heading out the door.

"You still need a haircut, Gwaine," he said, then shut the door. Gwaine smiled at Merlin.

"I think he's going to be just fine," Gwaine said. Merlin hoped so.


	6. Chapter 6

**Here's a chapter from Gwen's view! Hope you enjoy, it's short since it's up during the week, but I'm still planning on a regular chapter on Sunday so look forward to that! Thanks for the reviews Cici, always-tethered, Laurissy, cvgirl and larasmith!**

**Shout out to always-tethered, btw, because she hasn't even seen any episode of ****_Merlin_**** (a shame, I know...I'll convince her some day!) and yet she still read it for me, and apparently enjoyed it! I'll make a ****_Merlin_****er out of her yet! J**

**-muggletribute-**

Guinevere opened her eyes and looked around the room. Gwaine looked at her worriedly, but surprisingly said nothing. Gwen had been in a bit of shock since the wedding. She had been walking towards Arthur, and then, suddenly, he wasn't there. No one could explain it. The room must have had over 100 people in it and still no one knew what had happened. How could no one have seen him vanish?

The other problem was that with Arthur gone, before Gwen had been married in, Gwen wasn't able to help take charge. Which probably was a good thing. Gwen couldn't focus on anything. Gwaine and Leon were keeping peace, while the other Knights searched for Arthur.

"M'lady?" Gwaine looked at Gwen carefully.

"Mm?"

"I um, I was wondering if perhaps you would grant an audience with Sir Percival and Sir Leon. They have briefly returned from their search to attend to matters here, and have some questions for you." Gwen nodded briefly. She didn't really know what to do. How could they find a man who had simply vanished from a room he had been in seconds earlier? It had to be magic. But the Knight's had been unable to find Morgana for questioning, and none of the citizens of Camelot had come forward with information. It had only been a week since his disappearance, she reminded herself.

"I will see them," Gwen said. "Although, as I am nothing more than a servant until wed to Arthur, there really is no need for their asking." Gwaine nodded rather than argue, he had tried and failed before. Gwaine got up to bring them in and Gwen closed her eyes again. She couldn't help but think that maybe if she kept closing her eyes, when she opened them Arthur would be there again. She had been smiling at Arthur, and he at her, and when she had blinked, he had disappeared.

Gwen and the Knights had managed to keep the gossip at a minimum, locking the gates of Camelot and letting no one in, and no one out. Gwen hated to do this to her people, but she didn't know what else to do. The Knights believed that they could find Arthur, or at least Morgana, and until they did there was no one to rule in his stead. He had no heirs, no close family. Not even a wife, Gwen thought bitterly. If this was Morgana's doing…Gwen trailed off. She had always held a piece of pity for Morgana, until now. If this was her doing, Gwen wouldn't stop at exacting revenge, or finding her fiancé. She straightened herself in her chair and tightened her lips. She, Merlin and the Knights would figure out a way to fix this.

**So in a couple chapters I think I'll do a viewpoint from Merlin! It will be short like this, since these aren't the main parts of the story, but they seem to add a bit of interest, and I kind of liked the idea more as I wrote it! Hopefully you enjoy! Review please, I love constructive crit!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey all, sorry this is so late! Graduating has been an absolute nightmare—albeit one that will end happily. Thus life is crazy even without all my other obligations. There is a light at the end of the tunnel though! Soon I will be back to being weekly, and to make up for my being missing, this will be an extra long chapter! And next chapter will be from Merlin's point of view back in Camelot!**

**Thanks to all those who reviewed, favorited, and liked!**

**-muggletribute-**

It was an hour before Arthur slowly opened the door. Merlin looked at his face but it was unreadable. He didn't look scared, or worried anymore. He looked proud, like a King. Merlin let go of the breath he had been holding.

"So you can't tell me anything that happened when I was gone." When Arthur finally spoke, it was phrased as a statement, but it had a lot of hope that the answer would oppose him. Merlin sighed though, knowing he would have to let him down.

"Exactly, Arthur. I'm sorry. Although, I can give you a bone. There is a letter from Guinevere that I will give you when we go back to the estate."

"Estate?" Arthur had been wondering about Merlin's housing, and thought it was a good time to ask, even though he was burning to read the letter.

"Well, when you've lived one thousand years, it's pretty easy to build up a fortune. My "family" has held this property for five hundred years—luckily, I'm pretty good at changing my face, and I was a recluse for about three hundred of those years, working from home generally." Arthur looked at Merlin in amusement.

"So you don't age? Is that what you're saying? You'll always look like you did back in Camelot?"

"Oh no," Merlin laughed. "This is actually what I look like. But at about age fifty I stopped aging so I have to use a little help if I want to not look suspicious. And then I usually pass the deed off to my son…a younger looking me. It's pretty good, if I might say so."

"Another thing," Arthur looked as if he wanted to ask about fifty questions at a time. Which was fine with Merlin—they had all the time in the world. "Is Uther…here? Is he the father you told me about?"

Merlin shook his head, and a little light of hope in Arthur's chest died—he knew his father hadn't been the best ruler, or even father, but that didn't mean Arthur didn't still love him.

"No, Arthur, I'm sorry. His name is Jerry and his hobbies are fishing, reading, and his job as the CEO of a toy company. Nothing like your father, I'm afraid."

Arthur shrugged it off, trying to remember the rest of his questions. "Who are the reincarnations that you've found?" He tried not to sound hopeful, to wish for Gwen, but Merlin could tell. Of course he could. One thousand years later and they still understood each other like twins.

"Not yet. There's hope, of course. She's out there, Arthur, don't worry. We will find her. As for the others, I've found Percival—he's Perry here, so not difficult to remember—, and Leon, or Luke here. Neither of them know who they really are, but I managed to figure out a way to get them to work here—Luke is a scientist here, and Perry is head of security. We've been trying to figure out how to wake them up, make them realize. Perry is a bit lost, he he must be pretty close to realizing because he's not as bad as you were, but he is close. And Luke actually is very well adapted here—which will probably make it harder to make him realize. He'll be a valuable asset either way, however, and he knows Adam."

"So what am I here for? Why are you here? Who's the bad guy?" Arthur waited, while Gwaine and Merlin exchanged a glance.

"That's a topic for another day," Merlin finally said. Arthur grimaced, but moved on.

"So Morgana had nothing to do with this…" He waited for an affirmation, and Merlin nodded. "So…if she has magic too, does that mean she's around as well? Is that what the big problem here is?" Merlin was already shaking his head before Arthur finished.

"No, Arthur, actually…well, she's changed. She's had a thousand years to do so, I suppose and actually…well, we're close friends now." Arthur was so tied up in this answer that he didn't notice the slight blush that rose up Merlin's neck.

Merlin remembered the last time he had seen Morgana—fifty years ago, actually. She had aged well, and had promised to turn up when the time came for Arthur to return. Merlin would be happy to see her.

"She's an…an ally, then." Merlin nodded, glad for the interruption. Arthur looked a bit confused, torn about how to feel. Merlin had an awkward thought, one he'd been suppressing for a long time. Arthur might be…protective of his half-sister. He hoped the resentment that had built up between them would be resolved, but he was also half-hoping that resentment would stop Arthur from murdering him once he found out that Merlin and Morgana, well…had a bit of a thing. Even if Morgana refused to be tied down, traveling the world nonstop.

"Well," Arthur mused. "This will be weird." Gwaine snorted, drawing a smirk from both Arthur and Merlin. "But it's good to have you two back."

\m/

After leaving the museum, the ride to Merlin's estate was quiet. Arthur looked a little pale from the jolting of the car, but also determined and thoughtful. He had grown up a lot in the years after his father died, but even more so after he had woken up from that coma. He had to learn a lot, in a short amount of time. Merlin was proud of him.

When they got to the property, Arthur stared. It had to be at least 70 acres. The castle—Merlin had said it was called a mansion, but Arthur thought the word castle was much more appropriate—looked ancient. There were creeping vines up the front wall, and a huge garden that ran parallel to the road up to the castle after the gate. Merlin stopped and typed in a code before the gates swung open—Arthur stared.

When they got up to the house Merlin did not stop but took a sharp right, heading around the back of the house. Then they followed a road behind the estate.

"You need roads to get through your property? Now that's what I'm talking about." Arthur was feeling more and more at home. Now this felt like a kingdom. Merlin grinned happily.

"I thought you might like it." They kept going, into a mini-forest. When they emerged, he pulled into the driveway of a cottage, next to what looked kind of like a carriage with wheels. "This is where you will stay. I know it's a bit small, but you have a four-wheeler that I'll teach you how to use, to get up to the mansion."

He turned off the car and gestured to Arthur to follow him into the cottage. "There are five rooms—a bathroom, a bedroom, a kitchen, a living room, and an office. The office is where I keep all my research—you'll have to catch up on it but that can wait until tomorrow. I am guessing you want to sleep now."

Arthur glared—he was anything but tired. "Let's look at some of it." Merlin shook his head, but led him into the office.

Arthur looked around. There wasn't a spare inch of wall that wasn't covered in photographs and newspapers. They all seemed to center around one man.

"Seth Lamia. A slightly diabolic name, at best. He is descended from Modred." Arthur looked at him in shock.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey all! I'm officially a college graduate! Woot! Which means I have all the time in the world now (Ha. Ha. Ha. Right), other than you know, the whole job search thing. Anyways, this chapter is from Merlin's POV back in Camelot! Hope you enjoy! From now on there will be quite a bit of back and forth between Camelot and London. Let me know what you think!**

**-muggletribute-**

Four years. It had been four years, and Merlin still had a hard time believing it. He didn't think the knights would ever stop searching, but he knew what he needed to do—he needed to find answers.

Merlin had been searching for answers, but he realized that he needed to leave Camelot to find out more. And that brought him back to the bag that he had first brought with him on the road up to Camelot.

He looked at it. The bag had patches in the worn-through spots, but it worked well enough. The trouble was, Merlin just didn't know what to pack. He had a change of clothes and the spell book given to him by Gaius, but that was it so far. He looked around his room. Since announced Court Sorcerer, he had been given a new room and plenty of new possessions, but none of the new things were anything but things to him, other than his books. He had decided not to bring those, however.

"Merlin! Guinevere wants to-" Gwaine burst into the room, and stopped mid-sentence when he saw what Merlin was doing. "Merlin, where the bloody hell do you think you're going?"

"Never mind that," Merlin mumbled, then straightened up. "What does Guinevere want?" Gwaine glared suspiciously but answered the question. "She wants to discuss the treaty with the druids, of course. What else is it ever?" Merlin sighed, and followed Gwaine out the door. Once Arthur had realized Merlin had his magic, he had taken some time to understand, but he had made Merlin his court sorcerer and then begun to hash out the beginnings of a treaty and law change for magic.

They had only managed one visit to the druid camp before Arthur had vanished, however. Then it had taken Gwen almost a year to be able to think of anything but her missing King. There were always those searching—Percival and Elyan had been gone for two years and Leon led a group of knights out for at least three days at a time. But Gwen and Merlin realized they needed to continue other duties as well, and so the treaty had been taken out. Gwen had been wonderful, and the treaty was almost done. She was planning a last trip to the druid camp later this week.

Merlin had been a large part of making magic legal again, of course, and was basically turning into the 'go-to' guy, so he imagined that Gwen just wanted him to look at a specific section one last time.

A sharp pain in his toe brought Merlin back to the present. "Ouch!" He looked up, and realized they were in front of the Great Hall. Gwaine beckoned him through the doors. Walking in he was impressed, as always, by the Queen. Having only been halfway finished with the wedding when Arthur had vanished, it had taken some hard decisions and quick talking to put her in charge—who else would have, anyways?

Gwen rarely smiled anymore, but she had done so much to help the kingdom (or is it queendom? Merlin wondered) until, as she would always say, Arthur returned.

Now Gwen sat looking over the scroll with the treaty between the druids and Camelot. Next to her sat Jilmar, a young druid who had been recently promoted by Merlin and the Iseldir, Druid Chieftain. The thin boy was only a couple inches taller than Merlin, and had shockingly dark eyes, so dark brown they were almost black. But they were filled with merriment and an eagerness to learn. Jilmar was in awe of Merlin, something that had cuased a bit of trouble at first, when Merlin realized he wanted to follow him around everywhere.

With his new position, however, Jilmar was perfect. He had been one of the most scholarly of the druid children, and knew all the customs of both the druids and of Camelot. He had been a wonderful help to Merlin and Guinevere.

"Your Majesty, Jilmar," Merlin bowed to Gwen, and nodded at Jilmar. Jilmar stood up hastily to bow to him, while Gwen merely waved Merlin over.

"Merlin, you know you need not call me that," she admonished, and then went on to the task at hand. "I need your help with this section. Jilmar has done a wonderful job, but we both decided it needed a lookover. See, here," Gwen pointed at a section labeled 27.34.5, "this section under the laws guiding trade between Camelot and the Druids. This particular section is considering Druids coming inside the walls—Ah, okay Merlin," Gwen knew from the look Merlin gave her that he knew already what she was talking about so she quieted. Merlin glanced over the wording. The section maintained that Druids may come and go as they please, but that their goods must be searched. Merlin frowned. Looking at Jilmar, Merlin knew he felt similarly. This wasn't well worded at all.

"Sorry, Gwen, but we will need to change this," Merlin said. He noticed Gwen didn't really look that surprised, and again was happy that she was such a cool-headed and fair queen. "It should read like this, maybe: Druids may come and go inside the walls of Camelot as they please, stating their intent of visiting as per usual guidelines. Druids in groups larger than fifteen must speak to guards about where to pitch their tents if staying longer than one day." Jilmar scribbled furiously as Merlin spoke, and Gwen's eyes lit up; for just a moment Merlin thought she might smile with approval, but all he received was an approving nod before her eyes were again tired and dark with sadness.

"Perfect, Merlin, thank you. I will speak with the knights about staking out some land within the walls for the druids to set up ground, as well as speak with them about maybe coming up with some land directly outside the castle walls. Jilmar—" Guinevere waited until Jilmar was done writing, "should anything else be added to this section?"

"No, Your Majesty, ma'am," Jilmar said enthusiastically. "Si—Emrys," Merlin winced at the unwanted title and Jilmar, noticing, quickly changed back to Emrys. No matter how often he was told, Jilmar always gave Merlin a title. "It seems you have managed all the finer points in those two sentences, as well as in the above sections of 27.34. I think it is complete." Gwen nodded her approval again.

"Perfect. Now, Merlin, I have something else to speak to you with. Jilmar, will you take this scroll to Geoffrey for the changes?" Jilmar bowed deeply before scrambling out of his chair and out the door, scroll in hand. When he had left, and the doors again closed, Gwen looked at Merlin.

"When were you going to tell me about your departure?" Merlin looked shocked so Gwen went on. "Come now, I'm not a fool. I've known you now for what, ten, eleven years? When you get all secretive, start looking at maps when you think I'm not looking, and speak to Leon about the essentials you'll need, I think I can realize something is going on. You aren't planning on leaving us, are you?" Merlin knows by the glint of a tear in her eyes that he doesn't have to answer. She already knows why he is leaving.

Gwen sighed. "I knew it would happen sooner rather than later. You are Arthur's man through and through. You and he are closer than brothers, though Arthur would rather cut off his arm than admit it. When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow." Merlin said. The tears in her eyes were glassy, filming over her eyes, but she held them back.

"Well, we will have to give you a good send off. I'll miss you, Merlin. You're my closest friend." She said this quietly, but clearly. Merlin cleared his throat, knowing this would be the hardest goodbye. They had been close before, but once Arthur had left the two had grown closer than ever. Once a year since his disappearance, Gwen and Merlin traveled together to the lake of Avalon, where Merlin had once spoken to the spirits. Somehow they hoped praying here, and waiting, would bring Arthur back to them.

Now Merlin had his doubts, however. He knew a bit more about the situation, though he'd never tell Guinevere what he was going to do. How could he tell her that Morgana was innocent, and that, in fact, he was going to ask for her help?

She would never understand. Even Merlin didn't have any idea how it would work. How could he make Morgana understand? He knew she was lonely, though, and he thought this could work to his advantage. And that was about all he had planned. Revealing his magic to her, befriending her once again, this would all take time that he didn't think he could take. But he needed to, if it was all there was left to do.

"Gwen, I'll miss you so much. You have no idea how much. But I need to find answers. And you are Camelot's most wonderful, beloved Queen. You have done amazing things, my Queen. I have faith in you." There wasn't much Merlin could say, but he hoped these words would be enough, would keep her strong. She had lost her love, and now she had to lose her best friend. He only hoped it wasn't more than she could bear.

"Merlin, I expect to see you at breakfast tomorrow before you leave." And she walked away quickly. Merlin let her go, knowing she was now in mourning for two people, rather than just Arthur.

When she had left, Gwaine looked in. "Mate, why couldn't you just tell me? Where the hell are you going, anyways? And shouldn't you have some company?"

"Not where I'm going." Merlin said grimly.

"And where is that?"

Merlin thought for a while, trying to decide if he should tell anyone. The look on Gwaine's face made his mind up.

"To go befriend an old enemy."


	9. Chapter 9

**Happy early Christmas! I'm a tad early, whooo! This whole no homework thing is a major help to my timeliness! Hope all of your holidays are wonderful! Enjoy : )**

**-muggletribute-**

"Seth Lamia. He's the man I need to defeat? And you say he's like, some king?" Arthur was sitting on a stiff-backed wooden chair, staring out the window.

"Well, not completely. He's Prime Minister." Arthur just nodded distractedly, clearly completely unaware of the difference between King and Prime Minister.

"Whatever. In a position of power. And he's a bad guy. This is like Morgana all over again." Merlin made a note to sometime tell Arthur about Morgana—after all, the woman was surely due for a visit soon, now that Arthur knew of the situation. But not now. Merlin knew that well enough by looking at Arthur's face, a dark, defeated tilt of his brows and the contradicting determined glare of his eyes.

"You are the Once and Future King, Arthur. This is your destiny. Of course you can do this." Arthur muttered a sarcastic reply, which Merlin decided to ignore. "Well, we can look at this later. I'll show you the rest of the place." He motioned him back towards the living room, into which they had first entered.

"Here we have your basic book shelf, filled with some books I thought you might be interested in. There's a TV, which you are familiar with, thanks to the hospital, and some furniture." Merlin pointed to a door on the opposite wall from the entrance, "that's the bathroom," he said.

On the eastern side of the building was a small open entryway into a kitchen that Arthur supposed he would have to learn how to use, confirmed by the smirk on Merlin's face as he pointed out the stove; "I chose one of the oldest versions in order to give you more of a fighting chance. I have a Chef coming out sometime on Thursday to help you learn."

Last, he led him into the bedroom. It was simple compared to Arthur's room back in Camelot, but almost majestic compared to the room he'd had at the hospital. Arthur gave Merlin a grateful smile and flopped onto the bed.

Merlin sat down in a chair near the left end of the bed.

"You know, Merlin," Arthur said thoughtfully. "I never pegged you for a massive, showy mansion." Merlin looked at him a bit apprehensively. He'd hoped to keep this for another time.

When Arthur sat up a bit to look at him, Merlin shuffled his feet and cleared his throat a bit.

"Well, it wasn't exactly my choice—I chose the property about 400 years ago. It's 74 acres, with a large pond, some farmland, and the grove we drove through. I also had the front gardens designed, and this cottage was built when you went into the coma. It was the first time I felt so dejected, yet hopeful, at the same time."

"But the mansion? Who chose it then?" Arthur kept watching Merlin with a bit of confusion. Merlin nervously played with his tie.

"Well…actually, Morgana had it designed." Arthur just looked at him, unable to understand. Finally he sat up a bit straighter and a grim look appeared.

"Why did she have _anything_ to do with _your _house?" He said finally. The look he gave Merlin said that he understood why, finally. "Merlin. You didn't…" Merlin blushed, a violent red from the bottom of his neck all the way up to the bridge of his nose. "No!" Arthur burst out laughing, while Merlin stared.

"Gross! With Morgana?! Crazy, tried to kill-us-all Morgana?!" Merlin decided to butt in before the laughter turned to distraught mania, as it seemed very close to doing.

"Like I said, she's changed!"

"But," Arthur struggled to remain still, to not freak out in any way. "How?"

Merlin was quiet for a while, his thumbs in a silent struggle of suffocating the other, his left foot jiggling nervously.

"I suppose you could hear how it happened. This was about four years after you disappeared, right. And we had just finished up with the treaty with the druids." Arthur sat back against the headboard, and Merlin settled into the chair more comfortably while he thought about how best to tell the story.

**Merlin's Story**

_When Guinevere found out that I would be leaving, she was very strong about it, but I knew it would hurt her if I said what my plans were. So I only told one person—Gwaine._

"I think that's why he knows of his other life," Merlin said thoughtfully, before continuing with the story.

_Gwaine was angry at me for wanting to go alone, when he found out. "What the hell do you plan to do when you get there?" He shouted. "Just deflect her attacks and shout your mercy over and over until she tires, or you tire and die?" He went on and on. But I kept on explaining, gave him the entire plan. Finally, he understood, and quieted. He only asked that he accompany me a ways, and after some arguing, I agreed. I made him swear an oath that he would never tell a soul. I also told him that I probably wouldn't return for many, many years._

_Soon after breakfast and a short farewell to Gwen, Leon, and Gaius, Gwaine and I travelled together to the base of The White Mountains—he wanted to follow to The Valley of the Fallen Kings, but I refused. We said our goodbyes and I continued on. I planned on traveling to the Isle of the Blessed; I had done some exhaustive spells and asked around before deciding on her location._

_She was there, on the island. It didn't look good. When I arrived, I didn't even have a chance to speak before she was upon me, the purple tinges of magic wrapping tightly around my chest and neck. She spoke to me, wondering why the measly servant, her betraying ex-friend, would come alone, why I thought I wouldn't die. I dared not show my magic, once I realized she still hadn't heard of my power. It wasn't like we had kept it quiet. Something in her snapped when you became King, I think, and she retired to the Island, cut off from the rest of the world except a simple mute who brought her food monthly._

_I told her what I had decided to say. "I've come to pay my dues. I did you a wrong. Many wrongs, and so did others. And I want to make it up to you." At this she grew furious, throwing me to the ground. I would have died, but I used my magic at the last moment, deflecting her spell to a ruined piece of a wall, blowing a hole into the vine-choked brick. She stared._

_The revelation numbed her. "You're Emrys," she said finally. I nodded, not quite sure why everyone kept calling me that—the druids call me that as well._

_In the four years after you left, I kept busy searching for you, as well as helping Guinevere with the upkeep of the kingdom and the laws of magic. But I still felt as though I had too much time. Thus, I had plenty of time to think, to plan. I remember deciding one night about leaving to find Morgana. I realized revealing my magic to her would probably cause one of two possible reactions: either she would blow up, feverish with the idea that I never lifted a hand to help her—a lie, of course, but not one she would understand—and kill me, or she would realize that magic can be good._

_All I could do was hope for the second reaction._

_In the end, I got unbelievably lucky. She was too surprised to do anything, and in the meantime, she decided to give me a chance. For several weeks, we stayed on the island, on opposite ends, while she thought. Her magic kept me on the island, but we both knew I wouldn't leave._

_When she finally came to see me, I already knew what would happen. I could read it on her face. Her eyes, normally piercing and creepy, had softened a bit…only a bit, though. And her lips were a little less taut and pulled down._

_It would be almost a hundred years before I saw her smile, though. I'll spare you the details of the unbelievably slow years it took before she trusted me, and the eventual friendship that ensued._

_I told her about the changes in Camelot, your disappearance, and what I planned to do about it that night on the Isle of the Blessed._

_She was quiet, staring into the conjured fire. I wasn't sure she even heard me towards the end, but when I was all done she nodded. She looked at me. "I still don't trust you," Morgana said. "But I'm so lonely, and I have no one left. And for some reason, I've always had a hard time killing you, Merlin. You're just too stupidly kind." And she left. I didn't know whether to laugh at her comment or cry with fear. Instead I lay down, looking at the night sky and prepared for our journey._

_We traveled, many years, across the world. We lived in the Byzantine Empire for a while, where Morgana believed an ancient sorceress would be able to help us understand. We were among the first to travel to the New Lands, before even Columbus—you can learn about him later. There we found the key to your disappearance, and we were exuberant. That was probably when we became friends, and when I first saw her smile. She began to trust me. We moved back to what was now London—Camelot was no more. Morgana and I had visited it only once before it, and your beautiful wife, faded with time. Morgana was disguised, impossible for Gwen to recognize._

"She gave me something, that last night we supped together. She knew it was my last visit." Merlin reached into his coat pocket. He pulled out a letter and laid it on his lap, looking at Arthur. Arthur had fallen asleep, despite his eyelid's heavy struggle against the blanket of darkness.


End file.
